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Nassawango Creek

Under a gray April sky contemplating a shower,
guides assist with placing our canoes in the stream.
The red and green craft are bright on the black water.
Seated by twos, one front and one in back to steer,
we ease away from shore into the narrow channel
of this branch of the creek, following the lead guide.

He plays a recording of birdsong. Tree cover is thick.
It will be hard to distinguish bird from foliage and we
are looking for small fliers; mostly warblers who nest
along these banks. Tannin colors the water coffee.
Water darters ski the surface in multiple vees.
The trees, many cypress, waver in the fluid mirror.

Warblers and vireos are aerial performers flitting
in and out of view among the tree tops, teasing us.
One prothonatory sits still long enough for us
to admire his golden plumage accented with red.
Keen eyes sight a Louisiana waterthrush. Paddling
ceases while we wait and listen for we know not what.

Wood ducks are nearby. We hear their call and
the calls of barred owls. A turkey vulture and a
cowbird are easier to spot, as is an eastern kingbird.
Most of what we take in isn't feathered, but leaved.
Water lily pads create vast aquatic gardens that
when summer comes will hold a thousand blooms.

Ours is a leisurely morning of looking and listening.
Far from a road, quiet hosts the water and woods,
expecting contemplation, welcoming natural sounds
and silences: a cardinal's call; a bullfrog's comment;
a hawk's dip and rise above us as we glide and
brace for the shore we wish were further away.

© 2010 - Sarah Munson